


and just feel

by deviant900



Series: 30 OTP Prompts (SFW & NSFW) [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, M/M, Masturbation, Sequel, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 04:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviant900/pseuds/deviant900
Summary: To him, his hand was no longer his hand. It was Markus’s mouth, his tongue, teasing and sucking him to pull those pleased gasps from his throat.





	and just feel

**Author's Note:**

> this is a 100% canon sequel to my fic [drunk enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692274), because this AU i've created has begun to take over my life. i was going to say that it would end up becoming an actual series in my head if i wasn't careful enough, but, you know, i think i've passed the point of no return a long time ago. i've started developing other parts to add to it. we'll see how those come out at a later date, yeah?
> 
> anyways, this one's prompt is, obviously, "masturbation." i had fun with this one, and blasted a song i used to really like back in high school while i wrote it. y'all enjoy.
> 
> song of the day: [between breaths (an xx perspective) - blacq audio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D33AbOK5W90)

The glaring red of Connor’s alarm clock made him want to snatch it from the nightstand and throw it across the room, maybe shattering it against the far wall if he had a strong enough pitch. It was a rare night to come across his occasional sleeplessness, but tonight seemed to be one of them. He didn’t even feel the familiar exhaustion that came with them; lying in his bed with his eyes closed, waiting to fall, wasn’t doing anything for him.

He turned away from his nightstand before the urge overtook him and pulled the covers over his head.

Why couldn’t he just _sleep_? He had plans for the next day and errands to run. He didn’t need to be losing sleep like this.

He let out another heavy sigh after stealing a quick glance over his shoulder. A minute hadn’t even passed since the last time he checked. The night was going to crawl by, it seemed.

Connor nuzzled back into his pillow, eyes slowly drifting across his darkened room. The glow from an outside street lamp sent a soft orange light cascading across the floor between his blinds. He could see the crumpled pile of denim that was his jeans, lying across the floor where they had been tossed earlier, and for a moment, he remembered his bed mate from days ago. The way his face looked while he slept, the snoring that Connor had found more endearing than grating…

Markus, he thought to himself. His name had been Markus. As awkward as he was handsome, and with eyes that Connor couldn’t seem to forget. Eyes that darkened at the sight of him, that couldn’t tear themselves away while Connor had writhed and moaned on the bed sheets. More clearly, he remembered the sting and lingering burn of Markus’s teeth digging into his skin. The mark had faded by now, but he could still feel the ghost of Markus biting into him.

He groaned and shoved his face harder into the pillow as a dull heat built in him. No, no, not now. That was the last thing he needed while trying to get some sleep.

But as hard as he was fighting off the arousal, his mind kept wandering against his will. He remembered the pure rush of heat and excitement as Markus had dragged him across the bed by his hips, pinned him against his own door when they had first walked in, and Markus’s hot, wet mouth surrounding his cock.

Another heated pulse, and Connor couldn’t fight the urge to grind his hips down against the mattress, desperate to get some form of relief. He moaned, still trying – still failing – to push the intruding thoughts back so he could sleep. His body betrayed him. A slow roll of his hips against his bed again proved to be the breaking point, and he gave in, letting his thoughts take over. Not like he had anything better to do.

Connor pushed the sheets off of himself and slid his hand down his stomach to his growing erection. He stroked and massaged himself over his underwear, feeling the fabric at the tip grow wet as he applied more pressure. A roll of his palm over head had his hips jolting up into his own hand. No, not his own. _Markus’s_. He thought of Markus touching him like this, slow and gentle and unhurried, taking his time while Connor moved against him. His breath stuttered as the grip turned rough, just enough.

Would Markus kiss him? It felt like a stupid question the moment it crossed his mind. Of course he would, his tongue pushing past Connor’s lips, tasting him. Connor moaned at the thought of it. He could feel Markus’s hands running through his hair as he mimicked it with his other hand, nails on his skin, gripping it to pull his head back and bare his throat. Connor rolled on his back to get a better angle, giving his hair a sharp tug, and he groaned.

He rubbed his cock and ground his hips up into his touch, into Markus’s touch. The mattress dipped and bent beneath his shifting weight. He swallowed a moan through a dry throat as the hand at his cock moved and slipped under the hem of his briefs. Slim fingers wrapped around his shaft. He sighed at the sliver of relief it gave him, then took a moment to retrieve the lube from his nightstand and wet his hand before resuming his fantasy.

Markus’s mouth came to mind once he had taken his length in hand, the wet glide of his tongue setting a fire in his gut. He remembered, in great detail, the way Markus looked with his lips wrapped around him and the way he had moved his mouth along Connor’s cock. Connor shut his eyes and moved his hand in unison with the memory. He paused at the head to tease it with his fingers, as though it was that wicked tongue, and a small moan pushed past his lips as he thrusted into the slippery grip.

To him, his hand was no longer his hand. It was Markus’s mouth, his tongue, teasing and sucking him to pull those pleased gasps from his throat.

Connor’s voice hitched upwards as the touch on his cock picked up momentum. He could feel a familiar buzz in his chest, pressure building at his hips, and he stilled his hand before it became too much and took him over the edge. He fought against it and released himself to allow it to subside. Too soon, he didn’t want to come too soon.

He distracted himself by dragging his nails down his chest. Fingers pinched and rolled a nipple, and he arched into the rough touch. Markus had enjoyed biting him, and the thought of the man’s teeth digging into the flesh of his chest, taking his nipple between them and worrying it raw… Connor took in a sharp breath. He focused on that, of Markus leaving dark purple hickies spotted over his skin, and Markus’s hands on his body.

Connor reached for the lube again, coating his fingers and reaching down past his sac to find his entrance. He traced around it with a sloppy, wet finger, and clenched preemptively. He could hear Markus’s airy and teasing laughter in his ear as he pressed against his hole but not enough to penetrate. _Let me hear you beg for it_ , Markus demanded, and he would lick a stripe up Connor’s neck.

And beg he did, hips jumping from the bed at another prod to his hole.

“Oh, shit, Markus, _please_.” Connor hissed between his teeth and rolled his hips with a whimper. “Please, I want it. I want you to fuck me.”

Markus laughed, his chuckle deepened by his need, and the pressure was finally enough to breach. Two fingers entered him, a choked moan forcing its way out of his chest, and they slipped in all the way to his knuckles. Connor spread his legs further, and another shift in position made the next thrust of his fingers more satisfying.

Markus set his pace slowly, just as he had the last time. He touched Connor’s body, groping at his chest, letting his fingers drift carefully over the skin. Connor’s breath shook with moans as he took his cock in hand and matched the stroking with the fingers thrusting inside of him. He let his head fall to the side, mouth agape against the pillow.

Connor’s stroking sped up, wrist twisting when his grip reached the dark red head, and he could feel that pressure returning, building back up again. A deeper press of his fingers and few hard strokes forced him to the breaking point. His release hit him hard, and he spilled over his fingers and stomach. Connor’s hand slowed as he reveled in the aftershocks of his orgasm, rolling his hips around on his fingers until he pulled them out.

Connor swallowed and let out a heavy breath. He pulled his hand out from his underwear and looked at the strings of his release clinging to his fingers.

Reality rushed back to him like a freight train, and he groaned. Cum was drying on his skin and his sheets, and with his clean hand, he pushed brown curls away from his face. He had… Fuck, he hadn’t just fantasized, but _vocalized_ his desire of a near-stranger. He hadn’t thought about Markus like that before, of those bright eyes that took in every detail when Connor had come while they were together.

Would he be able to look in those eyes again, knowing that he had just outwardly begged to be fucked by the man who owned them?

Connor decided that wallowing in his own mess wasn’t how he had wanted to spend the rest of his night before his alarm went off. He moved to the bathroom to wash himself, using a wet rag in the same vein as that night. A quick change of his underwear, tossing the dirty pair into his hamper, and he was ready to crawl back underneath the covers. Connor bundled himself up, staring at the empty space next to him on the bed.

Markus’s number was still on the fridge.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m telling you, Josh, it is impossible to get 100% class attendance for three days straight in college,” Markus said with a confident grin over his coffee cup. Josh shook his head in response, a hand held up to stop Markus’s next remark.

“I can do it, though! I’ll email my Monday class about our bet _tonight_.” Josh sipped at his own coffee and pointed an accusatory finger at Markus. “If I can get all forty-five of them to show up to lecture for all three days next week, you are legally obligated to buy us pizza.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say I was ‘legally obligated’?”

“Did I stutter?”

Josh and Markus both glanced down to Markus’s phone as it vibrated loudly against the table. Markus tilted it up towards himself, checking the screen, and then setting it down again with a dismissive head shake.

“You’re not going to answer that?” Josh asked.

“Unknown number.” Markus shrugged and drank. “We have a local artist exhibition next week, and I’ve been getting messages and emails from people wanting a last-minute spot all day, ignoring the fact that application deadlines were weeks ago. It’s probably just another artist that was given my phone number by one of the other organizers.”

At that note, his phone vibrated again. Markus glanced at it and eventually picked up. He should go ahead and reject them. He would keep getting hounded if he didn’t respond eventually. He tapped on the notifications and let the text bubbles pop open on his screen.

 

**_2:12 PM  
>>Hey, Markus. It’s Connor._ **

**_2:13 PM  
>>When can I see you again? _ **

 

“So, who is it? Another artist begging to be a part of the show?” Josh asked.

Markus’s mouth quirked up in a small smile. He shut his phone off and pointedly laid it screen-down onto the table. Josh raised a brow.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Josh made a face at his dismissal, but Markus pretended he didn’t notice and changed the subject from behind his coffee cup. He could answer Josh’s questions at a later time, but only after he had answered his most recent texts.


End file.
